To celebrate the occasion I am giving away a custom tote bag filled with swag - promotional items like pens and bookmarks. All you have to do to be entered for a chance to win is Like my Facebook fan page and leave a comment either here or on the post about this event on the Facebook page.
Not only will that get you the Swag Bag (US addresses only) but you will also win a free download of Spirited Seduction.
Here's a little about the book:
Spirited
Seduction
Wynter
Daniels
Ryan’s fantasies are taking a decidedly
dangerous turn. He can’t keep himself from imagining making love to his
sister’s friend Emily. But his sister was murdered and he fears Emily will be
too unless he can catch the culprit.
Emily shuns her psychic abilities after
she became the target of a killer while working with the police on a missing-persons
investigation. But she can’t deny Ryan her help finding Emily’s killer after
she learns about the cryptic warning that could cost her life.
Despite their differences, passion sizzles
between them until sinister, unseen forces threaten to destroy them.
A Romantica® paranormal erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave
And here is an excerpt:
An Excerpt From: SPIRITED SEDUCTION
Copyright © WYNTER DANIELS, 2013
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.
Emily got up from her nail table and strode to the front
desk to check on her next client, the last of the day. She glanced at the
appointment book and blinked at the name written there. Her mouth went dry.
Could it really be…?
Stay calm.
She swung around to search the waiting area for him and
tried to school the fear from her expression when her gaze landed on Ryan
Barnes, still as devastatingly handsome as ever.
Questions raced through her mind in a millisecond. What did
he want? How did he find her? Did he know how badly she’d crushed on him years
ago? Why had she left the house without putting on any makeup that morning? Why
did she still find him so damn attractive even after he’d humiliated her in
front of all his sister’s friends?
“Hey,” he said from a seat by the window. He closed the
distance between them and pulled her into a stiff hug.
She shut her eyes a moment, attempting to banish her body’s
response to him—the heat at every point of contact, the almost dizzy feeling in
her head and the pounding of her heart.
For God’s sake, he’s just a guy, a guy who didn’t treat me
very well.
She didn’t have a lot of male clients but it wasn’t as if
she never had contact with any men.
“It’s been forever,” she said, trying to keep her tone
light. “Well, I guess we saw each other at the funeral but…” She tamped down
the sadness at the memory of her friend’s death. “How are you?”
Why are you here?
He was so tall, over six feet with the same sandy-brown hair
and crystal-blue eyes as Becky. He looked a few months past due for a haircut
and the stubble on his cheeks told her he hadn’t shaved for a couple days. His
face wasn’t perfect—far from it—but she still found him way too handsome. He
had an inch-long scar over his left eye and his nose looked as if it had been broken
at least once. Hadn’t Becky told her he’d had a few injuries from the martial
arts tournaments he’d competed in as a teenager?
Pressed to his hard body, she drew in a breath laced with
his scent, like a pine forest. She quickly extricated herself, remembering that
they were in the middle of the salon.
“I’m okay. What about you?” He skimmed his gaze over her,
lingered at her breasts.
Red-hot awareness rushed through her. She closed her arms
over her chest and steadied herself. She sensed tension in his face based on
the lines fanning out from his pale eyes and the taut set of his mouth. “I’m
fine, great. So you really want a manicure, huh? I never figured you for the
type.”
Definitely not the type. She guessed his hands were rough as
his boots, as well-used as the jeans he wore. What would those hands feel like
on her body? The thought sent a shiver of excitement rolling over her skin.
Ridiculous.
“I’d be happy to put you in with one of the other nail techs
if you prefer.” She hoped he’d refuse her offer.
He shook his head. “I want you.”
Clearly he was only referring to his manicure but his simple
declaration stirred wickedly erotic thoughts. Her nipples hardened to painful
points. Moisture slicked her panties.
Why she was attracted to a man she disliked, a man who
obviously couldn’t stand her, was a mystery to her. Yet she couldn’t pretend
the attraction didn’t exist. She recalled their interaction two years ago at a
birthday celebration for Becky. He’d actually called her a charlatan to her
face, in front of the thirty-odd party guests.
“I need to talk to you,” he said, yanking her back to the
present.
She clenched her jaw and forced herself to concentrate. “Why
didn’t you just call me? Why go to the trouble to make a manicure appointment?”
His sheepish shrug fanned the flames of her attraction. “I
didn’t think you’d agree to speak to me after…you know, what I’d said to you.”
She squared her shoulders. “I spoke to you at Becky’s
funeral and as far as I can remember, I didn’t bite your head off, did I?”
“Yeah, but that was a funeral. You’re not that cruel, are
you?” He gave her a wink and another unwanted jolt of heat coursed through her.
His teasing dissipated some of the tension and she managed
to smile. “C’mon back.”
He shrugged out of a faded leather jacket and hung it over
the hook near the door, giving her a view of the vee from his broad shoulders
to his narrow waist. She had to admit he had a certain muscular, rugged appeal.
And his kind of muscle was built through hard physical labor rather than in a
gym.
If she remembered correctly, he restored old houses himself
then flipped them, did all the upgrades and repairs himself. She pictured him
shirtless, sawing a two-by-four, as she’d seen him once working on something at
Becky’s house, his well-developed biceps and triceps flexing with each stroke.
Her face flushed and the room grew warmer, but she forced herself to squash the
memory.
He walked with her to her nail table, looking totally out of
place in the pink-and-white salon in his jeans and the T-shirt that hugged
every sinewy inch of his chiseled upper body. “I wanted to talk to you and a
phone call wouldn’t cut it.”
She swallowed hard and curled her fingers over the edge of
the table. “Is this about Becky? Did they find out who did it?”
The furrow in his brow deepened as he sat across from her.
“No, but it is about her. You know I’ve never been a believer in all that
supernatural junk like you…and Becky.”
She stiffened at his characterization and felt a headache
start behind her eyes. Her gift had only brought her fear and grief.
“But something happened last night to change my mind about
all that.” He glanced side to side then lowered his voice. “I saw her, or her
ghost, I guess. Scared the shit out of me. She disappeared so fast I couldn’t
ask her anything like why she was there, or…”
“Or who killed her.” A chill crawled up her spine.
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